Slingshot
by OneManShow
Summary: Ponyboy runs to the park after getting hit by Darry. However, he skips the key step of getting Johnny to go with him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders and blah blah blah blah.**

**Author's Note: ****Yay**** for one****shots! xD Sorry about the title. I know it's weird. But hey! I wrote this at around mi****d****night. S'not my fault it's dumb.**

_He hit me! He hit me! I knew he didn't love me. I knew it!_

Ponyboy's feet pounded on the pavement as he made his way back to the lot. But when he got there, it was empty. Johnny must have decided to leave and go home. Tears streamed down Pony's face. He needed Johnny right now.

He rubbed his arms as the bitter cold snapped at them. He wished he had a cigarette.

"I'll just make my way to the park and then I'll go home. Soda'll be there. Soda'll want me home. Soda loves me," he reassured himself.

Once he made his way to the park he was wishing he'd gone straight home. The wind was blasting worse than ever and he felt as if he might freeze to death before he'd even get home.

"Well, well, well. Lookie what we got here. One of those greasers who tried to pick up our girls."

The drunken slur made Pony shiver from something besides the cold.

"Next time you want a broad, pick up your own kind. Dirt," Bob sneered at him.

Pony remained silent. He almost wanted to run, but knew he wouldn't get too far. He scanned the ground for any kind of weapon, but there was none. His only hope was that they just backed off and went to their mustang. But he knew he'd have no such luck.

"Hey. You know what a greaser is? White trash with long greasy hair," Bob said, throwing some of the liquid from his flask at Ponyboy.

"You know what a Soc is? White trash with mustang and madras," Ponyboy said, and then spit on him.

"You need a bath kid. David, give the kid a bath."

That's when Pony knew to start running. He whirled around and ran. Even with being on track, and being as fast as he was, he didn't seem to get more than a few feet before he was grabbed by his arms and submerged into the fountain.

Ponyboy struggled with all his might, trying to get loose. But he was outnumbered. He tried screaming for help, only to get lungs full of water. His mind was screaming in agony, like his head might rip into two. And then suddenly, he stopped fighting anymore. He just went limp.

"Bob! BOB!" Bob's friend Randy screamed, "The kid ain't moving."

Bob pulled Ponyboy out of the water by his hair. He dragged him out to the ground. "Make him…Make him breathe," he said, swaying on his feet. All of his liquor seemed to be getting to him. He bent over and threw up.

"I can't make him breathe," Randy said, "Bob. The kid is dead."

"No way. No fucking way," Bob said, "We didn't kill no one. No one, you hear? Now get back into the car. I think I want to go home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. :]**

"He'll be home soon, Darry. I promise."

Darry was pacing around the room, chewing on his nails -- a god awful habit that he was used to scolding Ponyboy for. He choked back a sob. _Ponyboy._

"What if he doesn't, Soda? What if he ran away? God dammit. That kid. . .who knows what kind of trouble he'll get into?"

Soda clapped a hand on Darry's shoulder, "Hush up. He's gonna be just fine, ya hear? He'll be back. Give it an hour or two, and he'll come galloping back. He may not talk to you for a bit," Soda grinned hastily, "He's fine, Darry. He's just fine."

"God, Soda. I hope so."

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

"Crap, it's freaking cold out here."

Johnny's face was dark, except for the speck of the glowing ember from his cigarette. He couldn't seem to sleep. Partly because it was cold, and partly because every time he closed his eyes he saw the soc's face. What had his name been?

_Bob._

Johnny shivered. He held the smoke between his lips and rubbed his arms furiously. He cut through the park. Maybe a quick walk would help ease his nerves. Maybe he'd finally be able to get some sleep.

He tossed his smoke to the ground, crushing it beneath his heel. Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch. The gravel creaked as he jumped up, pulling himself up on the monkey bars. Swing hand-over-hand. CRUNCH. He landed hard on the ground after a flying leap through the air.

_Maybe I ought to take Pony up on his offer of staying with him at his house, _Johnny mused to himself. He hoped that Darry and Pony weren't getting into it to bad. He didn't really understand why Darry and Pony fought so much. He was just glad that Darry wasn't some drunk who would smack Ponyboy and run him out of the house. And he always had a couch for Johnny to sleep on.

"What the hell. . ."

The fountain had overflowed some. There was water splashed around everywhere. He hunched his shoulders when he saw something in the fountain. A big lump. Human sized, even.

"Oh no, no, no," Johnny muttered. He ran over to the body and flipped it over.

His stomach did flip flops as he backed away, recognition dawning on him slowly. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, goose bumps flooded his arms, the whole nine yards. He'd never seen a dead person before.

"P-Pony? Ponyboy?"

His teeth were chattering, as if the cold had suddenly dropped another ten degrees. He reached over and shook Ponyboy's arm roughly.

"God dammit Ponyboy, this isn't funny. You hear? Darry and Soda are probably worried sick! Come on! Let's get you home!"Pony didn't move. Johnny leaned forward, putting his ear to Pony's chest. The only thing he felt was wet, and the lack of a heart beat.

Johnny coughed on a sob and turned and ran. He had to get someone. Anyone. Ponyboy was dead. Ponyboy was dead. Ponyboy was dead!

Dally. Dally would know what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders, no matter how much I daydream about it.**

"Dally!"

Johnny was shoving people out of the way, and yelling in a panicky voice. He hadn't even knocked on Buck's door, just barreled in.

"Shut up," somebody Johnny ran into said.

"DALLY!" Johnny yelled louder.

Somebody grabbed Johnny's shoulders and flipped him around, "Easy, Johnny, what's'a'matter with you?"

"Dally," Johnny repeated.

Dally was standing there, his sharp angles illuminated in the lowlight. His hair was ruffled up and hiding his normally icy eyes. He felt Johnny shaking in his hands.

"Easy, easy. What's going on? Here, Johnny, come up here with me."

Johnny allowed himself to be steered up the stairs into a vacant bedroom. Dally closed the door behind him. He turned around to see Johnny pacing around the room fast. His lower lip was trembling, and tears were forming in his eyes.

"Dally, Ponyboy's dead."

Once Johnny admitted it, the fear and anguish started to pour out of him. He sobbed, too frustrated with life to be embarrassed. "I don't know what happened. He went home. We were in the lot, but he went home. Why was he in the park? Goddammit, Dallas." Johnny stamped his foot on the ground, making the hardwood floor vibrate. "GodDAMMIT. What the hell was he doing out there? I just found him. In the park. He was all wet. He wasn't breathing, Dallas. He was just dead. God almighty. God almighty."

Johnny's sank into the bed, and cried into his hands. His sobs, and the muffled noise from the radio downstairs were the only noises that could be heard. Dallas felt his heart beating fast. His brain was whirring. Focus, he told himself, focus. You gotta be able to do something for Johnny right now.

"Hey Johnny, nobody see you out there?"

"What?" Johnny said, looking up at Dallas.

"At the park. With Ponyboy. Anybody see you with his dead body?"

"I don't..I don't think so. I mean, it's the middle of the night. But why does that matter? Should I call the police?"

"No," Dally said, peering out the bedroom window, "No. It's a good thing you didn't. They'd pin it on you, man. You're a greaser, you know?"

"Is that all you're worried about?" Johnny accused hotly, standing up, "Dally, somebody killed Ponyboy. What the fu-"

"That ain't it at all, Johnnycake. We're gonna find out who did this, man. But not tonight. There ain't anything we can do for Ponyboy tonight. We just gotta lay low until tomorrow. Okay, Johnny? There, just breathe. It's gonna be alright, man."

"We gotta tell Darry and Soda."

"Naw, man. We can't do that."

"What do you mean? We have to tell them. They're gonna be up all night, waiting for Ponyboy to come home."

"I know, Johnny. But lookit here, if you go over and tell them Ponyboy's dead now, then when the police show up at their house and tell them, they ain't gonna be surprised. Then the fuzz is gonna grill them about how they already know. I know it's hard, Johnny, but all we can do right now is wait. You should get some sleep."

Johnny wanted to laugh, but choked out a sob. Sleep? He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to sleep again.

"Just, give me a minute. Stay here." And Dally disappeared out the door, leaving Johnny to the thoughts rushing through his head.

What was gonna happen? Why would somebody do this? Ponyboy was a good kid. He never did nothing to nobody ever. They had to find out who did this. If it was the last thing he ever did, he was gonna find out who did this and…

The door opened. Dally reentered the room, with a glass of water in his hand.

"Here," he said, handing Johnny the glass of water. He then opened his other hand to reveal two small pills, "Take these and then you can get some sleep."

Johnny hesitated, and Dally gave a wry smile, "Go on kid. I wouldn't give you anything that would hurt ya."

Johnny took and breath and swallowed the pills. Nothing happened. Ah, well. He leaned back on the bed and then realized how heavy his eyes felt. He could hear himself mumble something to Dally, but as soon as he said it, he forgot what it was. Then, sleep.

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

"Alright, I'm getting worried."

"Soda, it's going on five AM. Where on earth could this kid be?"

Darry jumped at a knock on the door. Who on earth even bothered knocking on their door anymore?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't anything from The Outsiders. If I did, I wouldn't be here.**

Darry's eyes and fists were clenched tight. He knew Soda was mad at him for not letting him come, but the decision had been made. Darry rarely ever said "no" to Soda, but this was one thing he knew he'd regret if he given in to Soda.

"Are you ready?"

Darry opened his eyes. He looked to his left at the two policemen, and then straight in front of him at the medical examiner, separated from him only by the metal stretched covered with a white sheet.

He nodded slightly. The medical examiner reached to the top of the sheet and pulled it down a bit.

Darry took a deep breath and then looked down. The haunted face of his youngest brother looked up at him. His eyes were closed, and there were a few scratches on his cheeks and chin that Darry knew were fresh, but Darry knew this was his brother. Ponyboy's hair was laying over his forehead, dangling onto his face, the hair greased washed from his hair. Darry reached forward and brushed the hair out of Ponyboy's face.

"Ponyboy hates when he gets his hair over his eyes," Darry said, not taking his eyes off of his brother.

He ran his finger over Ponyboy's cheek. The same cheek that just a night ago, he had struck. His heart gave a tremendous leap of distress, and he pulled his hand back quickly.

"Yes," Darry said, as the medical examiner pulled the sheet back over his brothers face, "Yes, that is Ponyboy."

"We're very sorry for you loss," one of the police officers said, "We need to ask you a few questions…"

"Can't they wait?" Darry said. He couldn't let himself cry in front of a total stranger, a police officer at that.

"No," said the other officer, gently, putting his hand on Darry's shoulder, "I'm really sorry son, but they can't wait."

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

He was sitting in one of the interrogation rooms, fondling the paper cup of coffee they had given him between his hands. He had the feeling that if it was a Soc that had died, someone rich and powerful's son, then he would be in a much nicer place to answer questions. He felt like a prisoner here.

"We'll try to make this quick so you can go home and be with your family."

Darry looked at the first officer, who took a seat across from him. He was tall, about as tall as Darry himself. He had curly brown hair, and a trace of five o'clock shadow. Detective Sisto.

"What was Ponyboy doing in the park last night?"

The second cop was leaning against the wall. He was about half a head shorter than Detective Sisto, but just as in shape. His name was Detective Abraham, and he had his arms crossed, looking not at Darry, but at the floor.

Darry let out a small cough before he started. Then he told the detectives about how Ponyboy hadn't come home until two in the morning, and the fight they had had. Tears pushed at the back of his eyes as he talked about how he hadn't gone after Ponyboy, thinking he just needed to run around the block to cool off, and then he would come back home.

"What had Ponyboy done earlier that day?" Detective Abraham asked.

"It wasn't a school night. He went out with two of his buddies. I'm not sure what they did during the day, but they went and saw a movie at the Nightly Double at some point."

"Until two in the morning?" Detective Abraham asked suspiciously.

"He said that he and his friend went into this empty lot by our place and fell asleep while they were talking. I told you that," Darry said. He was beginning to not like Detective Abraham anymore.

"Are you sure he wasn't out drinking or getting high?"

Darry stood up fast, clenched fists in his pockets, "Ponyboy is a good kid. He gets good grades in school and doesn't get into trouble. He would never go out boozing or anything like that."

"Darrel, please sit down. We do have to ask these questions, they're routine," Detective Sisto said gently.

Darry felt the urge to blurt out "Would you ask these questions if the kid was a Soc?" but refrained. He slowly sat back down, now only looking at Detective Sisto.

"What are the names of the friends?"

"What?"

"The friends Ponyboy was out with yesterday. What are their names?"

Darry hesitated. He knew as soon as he dropped the name "Dallas Winston" that the infamous greaser would get drug in the station by the back of his neck and thrown in jail. And Johnny. Johnny barely talked to the gang, how was he going to handle two grown police officers shooting rapid fire questions at him?

"We just want to talk to them," Detective Sisto assured.

Darry looked at the table in front of him. Should he say he didn't know? Would they believe that he could be that irresponsible? They didn't know him, he was sure he could make it work.

"It'll help us find out what happened to your brother. It will help us find out who did that to your brother."

Darry looked Detective Sisto straight in the eye. He thought about Ponyboy lying on the cracked pavement by the fountain in the cold. He thought about scared Ponyboy must have been and how much he must have screamed for Darry, for anybody.

"Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

The laugh seemed to fill the whole room. "Easy on the merchandise," Dally said with a grin as he was shoved down into the dinky, metal chair.

"Shut up, Dallas," Detective Sisto said, circling around to the other side of the table, "And tell us what happened."

"How can I tell you what happened if I have to shut up?" Dallas quipped, "Make up your mind."

Detective Abraham banged his fists on the table, but Dally didn't flinch.

"How very 'N.Y.P.D.' of you," Dallas said, and chuckled when neither detective cracked a grin, he just said, "Easy boys. We're all friends here."

"I don't make friends with the dirt that collects in the bottom of my shoe," Detective Abraham muttered as Dally clutched his heart.

"I told you officers, I don't know who hurt Ponyboy," Dally said, shrugging his shoulders, but looking firm, "I left him and Johnnycake at the drive in. Johnny told me that Two-Bit came along later. Then-"

"Two-Bit?" Detective Sisto said, "Who is Two-Bit?"

"Two-Bit Matthews, another buddy."

"Another JD," Detective Abraham whispered to Detective Sisto. Detective Sisto waved him off.

"What's his real name?" Detective Sisto said.

Dally raised an eyebrow, "Hell if I know."

"What? You don't know your buddies real name?"  
"I probably knew at some point," Dally said, "But it wasn't important. So I forgot. _Anyways_, as I was saying, Two-Bit, Pony and Johnny split up after the movie, Pony went home. That's that."

"That's that," Detective Sisto said with a small sigh, "Do you really not care at all that one of your friends is dead?"

Dallas' eyes flickered to life, but his voice remained steady, "Of course I care. Ponyboy was a good kid. I hope you find the sonofabitch who did it."

"We're doing the best we can, Dallas," Detective Sisto said, "We're trying to put all the pieces together. We need to know every detail about what happened that night."

"Which is why we need to talk to Jonathan Cade," Detective Abraham said, "Where the hell is he? We went by his house and he ain't there."

"What?" Dally said, "Can't find him? That's a shame."

"Spit it out, Dallas," Detective Sisto said, "Or you might make him snap."

"I ain't lying," Dally said, "Dunno where he is. I just told you what happened though, ain't that good enough?"

"No," Detective Abraham said, "We need to speak to him. There's a hearsay law, ya know?"

"Right," Dally said, pulling out a cigarette. Detective Sisto raised his eyebrow, and Dally put it away, "Well good luck finding him."

"His parents will call when he gets home, I'm sure," Detective Sisto said.

Dallas snorted, and then stood up, "Well, is that all?"

Detective Sisto looked at Detective Abraham, and knew that his partner was just waiting for an excuse to lock Dallas Winston up, but he turned to Dallas and said "We'll be in touch."

Dally stalked out of the room. He bounded down the steps of the police station and turned the corner.

"So, we following him?" Detective Sisto said, grabbing his coat.

"You bet your ass," Detective Abraham said, bounding out the door.

Dallas stopped at the corner to light a cigarette. Stupid cops. They don't know anything about anything. He had to admit to himself, he was a little worried he would lose his cool when the one cop asked whether he cared about Ponyboy dying. Of course he cared! He just had to play his cards right. Cops weren't able to do shit. Dally was gonna find out who killed Ponyboy himself. And when he did, he wasn't gonna give him a trial. Oh no. Straight to the sentencing…

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

Johnny shivered, and Soda pressed a warm cup of cocoa into his hands.

"Thanks," Johnny said, not looking Soda in the eye.

"Sure, kid," Soda said.

"Where's Darry?"

"He's out."

Soda didn't have enough energy to explain how Darry was killing himself over this. How Darry had taken a leave of absence from his job and when he wasn't busy setting up the details for Ponyboy's funeral, he was at their parents graveyard, praying to them. For what, Soda didn't really know. Forgiveness?

"I have something to tell you Soda," Johnny's timid voice was still enough to jolt Soda from his thoughts of Darry. Soda gave Johnny a nod.

"I found Ponyboy the night he died. Before the cops, I mean. I went through the park and I saw him there. I wanted to tell you guys that night, but-"

"Why didn't you?" Soda said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"I went to Dally first. He said I had to wait, cause if you knew before the cops knew, they'd be suspicious or somethin'."

Soda put an arm around Johnny, "That was probably good thinking, man. Just don't tell Darry, okay?"

Johnny nodded.

The phone started to ring. Soda got up and answered it, "Hello?"

Johnny looked into his lap as Soda chatted with the person on the phone. He figured the person on the other end must have been doing most of the chatting, though, since Soda was only grunting a few "Uh huh"s every now and then. Johnny stood up and started heading to the door, but Soda waved him to stay.

"Okay, yeah. Thanks, Dally." And then Soda hung up.

"Hey, Johnny. Dally says that there are some cops following him around town. They're looking for you, kid. You better just lay low here for a while."

Johnny chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a minute, "I'm going to the police station to tell them what happened. I mean. What I know for sure."

Soda paled, "I don't think that's a good idea, man. I think that Dally's probably right. Right now the cops ain't got no suspects and they're probably just trying to close this case as fast as possible. I mean, who knows if they're gonna find Ponyboy's killer for sure? I don't want you to get in trouble just because they're lousy."

"They ain't just gonna pin this on me, Soda," Johnny said, "It ain't like Two-Bit shoved a pack of smokes he stole in my pocket. I gotta go in there and tell them about what happened with the Socs."

"The Socs?" Soda said, "What about the Socs?"

"We had a run in with a couple of them while we were walking their girls home," Johnny said hurriedly, "It wasn't a big deal. But I know Dally didn't know that and the fuzz are gonna want to know the whole story."

"You think one of them Socy kids hurt Ponyboy?" Soda said.

"Gee, Soda," Johnny said, shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno man. It's possible. They were really mad, and a little soused. It's possible. That's why the cops are gonna want to interview them."

Soda sat down and started to drum his fingers on his knee, "What were their names?"

"Soda, I don't think-"

"Names, Johnny."

"Bob and Randy, I think."

"And the girls?"

"Cherry Valance and Marcia something," Johnny said, opening the door, "I'm going to the station. Don't do anything stupid."

"You either, Johnny."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders or any of their characters, okie dokie?**

Detective Sisto leaned against the brick wall, "It's cold out here, man. And Dallas ain't doing anything."

For the past hour or so the two detectives had trailed their prime suspect, Dallas Winston. He was their prime suspect at the moment simply because of his track record. But the most suspicious thing Dally had done in the past hour was scratch his balls in public.

"I guess we could go knock on that Cade kid's door," Detective Abraham sighed.

"Yeah, okay," Detective Sisto said, sticking his hands in his pockets, "And then go out canvasing for witnesses. Let's make a run back to the station, though. I wanna pick up a picture of him to show people if they've seen him. It's on the way."

"Alright."

When the pair arrived back at the station, a surprise was waiting for them.

"Yo, Sisto! Abraham! You got someone waiting for you in room number four!"

Detective Sisto acknowledged the other cop with a wave, and he and his partner went into said interrogation room. Detective Sisto didn't know if he looked as surprised to see Jonathan Cade, as he looked afraid to see the two detectives.

"Well, Mr. Cade," Detective Sisto said, "We've been looking for you."

"That's what I heard," Johnny said, trying to keep his voice from quivering, "So here I am."

Detective Sisto took a seat across from Johnny, while Detective Abraham brooded against the wall.

"Well, thanks for coming in Mr. Cade. We just have-"

"Johnny."

"Hm?" Detective Sisto asked.

"Just…Just call me Johnny."

"Right," Detective Sisto said with a small smile, "Johnny. Anyways, I just need to ask you a few questions about the night Ponyboy died."

Johnny nodded mutely.

"Did anything out of the ordinary happen that night when you went to the theater?"

"When we went to the movies, our friend Dally was hitting on this girl, Cherry Valance. When she rejected him, he left. She and her friend invited us to sit up with them, so we did. Our friend Two-Bit came by, and after the movie the three of us started walking the girls home."

Detective Sisto was silent, so Johnny continued, "When we were walking, their boyfriends drove by us and stopped. They were trying to start a fight with us, and they were drunk. The girls left with them. After that, Two-Bit split, and Ponyboy and I went to this empty lot and fell asleep. We woke up, and he went home. That's the last time….That's all I know."

Detective Sisto drummed his fingers on the table. If this was true, then the boys in the car could be suspects. However, Dallas Winston didn't mention any girl. Though, Dallas Winston wasn't one to be forthcoming with information, either.

Detective Abraham left the room for a moment, and returned with a notepad and pen. He dropped them on the table and Detective Sisto slid them over to Johnny.

"Write what you told me down. Include the names of the girls and the boys, and any other details you can remember."

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

Words such as "final notice" scared Darry. Those were the bills he paid first. They came in yellow envelopes and the words were printed in red, capital letters, like they were screaming at him. He knew he was going to have to go back to work soon. He knew that he couldn't ignore his bills.

He knew two other things as well. He knew that tomorrow was Ponyboy's funeral. He had dug out his and Soda's suits. They hadn't been worn since his parents died. He felt weird about them now. He knew that after tomorrow, he could never wear that suit again. It was too uncomfortable. Ponyboy was to be buried right next to his parents. Darry hadn't wanted a reception, though Soda did. Darry didn't feel like he could bring people over to his house after burying his youngest brother and serve food and talk, and he expressed that to Soda, which made Soda relent. It would be hard enough having to see people at the funeral. He knew they'd want him to say a few words, and Darry just didn't know what there was to be said.

The second thing Darry knew was that a visit from the State was not far behind. Soda was almost seventeen, but still sixteen, still just a teenager, a kid. He knew that some man or woman would come knocking at his door and grill him about what happened to Ponyboy. Why was Ponyboy out so late? Why did you hit Ponyboy? Why weren't you more responsible? Then they would try to pry Soda from him. This thought made Darry's spine stiffen. They would have to kill Darry before he'd let go of Soda. Soda was the last of his family, and he wasn't giving that up.

The knock on the door made Darry sigh to himself. Two-Bit's mother had come over at least twice with food. A quiche and a lasagna. While he wasn't ungrateful, they still had most of that food left. Neither Darry nor Soda really felt up to eating. He went to the door, expecting Mrs. Matthews, as she was really their only visitor that ever knocked, even though she knew full well that it was unlocked.

"Who are you?"

The question came out more accusatory and gruff than Darry had meant. The poor girl standing in front of him gave a small jump and looked up at him in the face, dark circles under her green eyes. He looked down at her hands, in which she was holding a big tray of macaroni and cheese. She thrust it into his hands and then as if unsure what to do with her empty hands, started twirling her red hair around her finger.

"My name is Ch….My name is Sherri Valance," she said, voice quavering, "Um. I went to school with Ponyboy."

"Oh," Darry said, feeling bad that he had scared her, "Uh, yes."

In truth, he had no idea who Sherri Valance was. Ponyboy had never mentioned her. He would have been doubtful that the two of them had been close, if he wasn't so worried that his and Ponyboy's relationship had been so gaping.

"I'm just. I can't believe what happened to Ponyboy," she continued, her voice speeding up, "I am so sorry. You can never understand how sorry I am. I just brought this by. I don't know if you like mac and cheese, but it's really the only thing I know how to make, and I just had to bring over something. Ponyboy was such a good kid. So smart, so gentle. He and I…Well. He was just real easy to talk to."

Darry smiled at the girl, though he knew it must have looked half-hearted, "Thank you. I really appreciate it. I love mac and cheese."

"You must be Darry," the girl said, smiling herself, "I can tell, by the way Ponyboy described you."

Darry was taken aback, and Cherry felt slightly guilty. She could more tell that he was Darry because she felt like she knew Sodapop through Ponyboy's description of him. He had hardly spoken about Darry, except to say that he was hard and mean. Cherry didn't think he looked so mean, though. He just looked exhausted. And his eyes. They were ice blue, but instead of looking like a menacing ice berg, they looked like they were stained with tears. Cherry shook her head and looked down at her feet.

"Ponyboy talked about me, huh?" Darry said, "And described me good? Well, shoot. That kid was one heck of a writer. English was always his best class."

Feeling as though he were about to cry again, Darry said, "Well listen. Thanks for the meal. I really appreciate it, and so will Soda. I'm sure you know about Soda, if Pony talked about me."

"Of course. I hope all the best for you two."

Cherry turned around and Darry was about to disappear into the house when he called after her.

"Wait."

She turned around and stared.

"Just um. Ponyboy's funeral is tomorrow at one, if you wanted to come."

Darry wasn't positive, but it looked as though the girl's eyes sagged sadly, "Thanks," she said, "I'll try and make it."

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

Soda wasn't sure exactly where he was going. He had thought he was going to confront the Socs that had messed with his brother. But, come to think of it, he had no idea how to find them. It was a small town, but Soda dared not walk past his territory. At least, not alone. And if he did, what would he do then? Knock door to door, asking for a Bob, Randy or Marcia something? And Cherry Valance, that sounded like some kind of stage name.

"Hey! Soda! Wait up!"

Soda continued to walk, but slowed, and turned his head to look behind him. He stopped when he saw Two-Bit Matthews, jogging up behind him.

"Hey," Two-Bit said, slinging a free arm across Soda's shoulders, "What are you up to?"

"I don't know," Soda answered honestly.

"You don't say," Two-Bit said, nodding, "Very interesting."

Soda was too tired to crack a grin, and Two-Bit shuffled, sticking his hands in his pockets, "So. No news yet, then, huh?"

"From the cops?" Soda verified, "No. We're not going to hear any news from them."

"Aw, Soda. You don't know that."

"They don't care about greasers."

"It ain't like Ponyboy was just jumped, he was…Well, look. I mean. I'm sure they're doing their best."

"Yeah," Soda said, unconvinced, "Johnny went to them today."

"He did?"

"He said that they needed the whole story, and he had information about a couple of Socs that were messing with them earlier."

Two-Bit wrung his hands together, "He did, huh."

It wasn't a question. Soda looked at Two-Bit's anxious gesture, "What gives?"

"Nothing, man," Two-Bit said, "Come on. I know my mom sent over some lasagna. Let's go back to your house and I'll let you warm me up a piece."

Soda did smile at this, "Alright, whatever."

They got back to the house to see Darry, already at the oven.

"You guys are just in time. Warming up mac and cheese."

"Your mom sent over mac and cheese, too?" Soda asked Two-Bit.

Two-Bit shrugged as Darry answered, "Nah. One of Ponyboy's classmates. Sherri Valance, she said."

Two-Bit's eyes got big and he commenced wringing his hands together, "Sherri Valance? Red headed gal?"

"Yeah," Darry said, "You know her?"

"She goes to our school," Two-Bit said, "Yeah. I know her."

"What gives, Two-Bit?" Darry questioned his friend.

"Nothing," Two-Bit said nervously, "Hey, I'm gonna get home. Check on my ma. She's probably in the kitchen, making a pie or something. See y'all later."

"Two-Bit-" Soda started, but Two-Bit was out the door.

"That was weird," Darry mused, taking the food out of the oven.

"Definitely," Soda said.

He wasn't sure what Two-Bit knew, or what Two-Bit was hiding, but he knew it was something. His friend could lie up and down to police officers, to girls, or even to his friends about his wacky stories and adventures, but Soda knew that Two-Bit was lying this time. He knew. He had to figure out a way to know what Two-Bit knew.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton or the poem A Prayer in Spring by Robert Frost.**

**A/N: This chapter was really hard for me to write, mainly because I kept rewriting it, trying to make it perfect. I have never written anything like this before. I hope I did justice for Ponyboy.**

"_Dad? Why is mom crying?"_

_Mr. Curtis bent down to Darry's level, which was quite tall for a five year old. He took Darry's hands in his own and said, "Darry, do you remember when we talked about death?"_

_Darry thought back, and nodded, "When you go away from Earth and go up into Heaven."_

"_Well, mom's sister did that today, so she's sad," Mr. Curtis said._

"_But isn't Heaven a good place?" Darry asked._

_Mr. Curtis smiled and hugged Darry, "Heaven is a good place, but it means that your mom's sister will be away from your mom, which makes her sad. She will miss her."_

"_Oh," Darry said, "So are you supposed to cry when someone dies?"_

_Mr. Curtis pushed Darry's hair out of his eyes, "You should do whatever you feel like doing, Darry. If you feel like crying, you should cry. It's okay if you don't cry, too, though."_

"_I feel like giving mom a hug."_

"_I think that she would very much like that."_

Darry felt on this morning like throwing up and hiding under his bed. He wished very much that he was still five years old, able to hide behind his father's legs. He wished that he could be anywhere but in the pew he was currently sitting in. Everything around him was slightly blurry, even the sobbing Soda beside him whose hand he was holding. He was vaguely aware of his Two-Bit sitting on his left, hands clenched. Steve, on Soda's right, head hung. Dallas and Johnny, on the other side of Two-Bit. Dallas looked as stoic as ever, but Johnny was shaking and crying almost as much as Soda. He was glad his friends were there but was thankful that none of them spoke. When the pastor came up to give Ponyboy's eulogy, Soda started to shake, and Darry put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ponyboy Curtis was a young man that passed too young," he began, "He was a great brother, and a great friend to many. We mourn over the loss of such a spirited young man. A young man who went through life with new eyes, eyes different from the rest of the world. He read more books in his fourteen years than most adults read in their entire lives, but still managed to retain a childlike wonder of the world. He wasn't innocent, having suffered the loss of his parents so young, but he wasn't tainted by the dirt and sin of this world, and that made him shine like no other. Ponyboy may not be with us anymore, in our world, but we know he is safe, watching over his friends, and his brothers. As in Corinthians 5:1 'For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.' And as the poet, Thomas Campbell said 'To live in the hearts of those we love is never to die.' Ponyboy's memory will be with us, in our minds and in our hearts."

Soda wasn't even looking up anymore; he had brought his knees up to his head, and buried himself. Darry let go of his hand, anxious, knowing.

"Ponyboy's brother Darrel would now like to say a few words before we lay Ponyboy to rest."

Darry stood up, and walked to the front. He looked into the faces of the people sitting, staring back at him. He recognized his friends, Mrs. Matthews, a few of Ponyboy's classmates, one of Ponyboy's teachers, and the red headed Sherri Valance. He took a shuddering breath, and then began.

"Ponyboy was one of the best people I know. He was definitely the smartest person I know. He was so quiet, but when he opened his mouth, pure poetry flew from it. He had this way with words that made you picture everything he said with clarity. I don't know why Ponyboy is gone. It is the most unfair thing that ever could have happened. Ponyboy's future was bright, and he was just starting to discover all the possibilities of life.

One of my favorite things was to watch Ponyboy run track. I remember his first track meet. He was so nervous. I was standing in the bleachers, and I couldn't see the expression on his face, but I could tell by the way his was fidgeting. I remember that he started out so slow. I just thought to myself, 'there's no way he'll catch up with all those other boys.' Something inside of him lit up, and he spurted to the front of the pack. I remember yelling so loud I thought my throat would split when he crossed the finish line, winning second place. I remember him coming up to me after it was all over and saying 'Almost. Next time, I'll have it.'

Ponyboy didn't relent. He was so stubborn. When he wanted something, he was going to go out and grab it. I always knew that he'd be someone in this world. I always knew that he'd touch lives. I'm so sad that Ponyboy life was as short as it was. But nothing would ever make me trade away the years I had with him.

I was going through his things last night. I, uh. I came across a notebook he had. I didn't read it. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to read it. But I picked it up, and a slip of paper fell out, ripped from a book. It was a poem. I felt like I was supposed to read it today. So. Here it goes."

Darry took a deep breath and finally the tears started to fall. He kept his voice steady, however, as he recited the poem.

"A Prayer in the Spring, by Robert Frost.

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;  
And give us not to think so far away  
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here  
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,  
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;  
And make us happy in the happy bees,  
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird  
That suddenly above the bees is heard,  
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,  
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,  
The which it is reserved for God above  
To sanctify to what far ends He will,  
But which it only needs that we fulfil."

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

The gravesite was nearly vacant of people. They had left, and gone home. Darry had basically carried Soda back to the truck and home. Both were in separate rooms in the house.

"I'm so sorry Ponyboy," the red head moaned down into his grave, "I'm so sorry."

She jumped at the hand on her shoulder, but then breathed a sigh of relief, "Two-Bit. You scared me."

"Cherry," Two-Bit said, his laughing eyes serious, "What happened to Ponyboy?"

Cherry started to chew on her bottom lip, "I got questioned by the cops, you know," she said.

When Two-Bit didn't answer, she continued, "They asked about Bob and Randy. They asked about when they picked us up and drove us home, how they were mad at you guys."

"Listen, Two-Bit, there's something you should know-"

"Two-Bit!"

Two-Bit spun around to see Dallas Winston, running full speed at him.

"Dally? I thought you were taking Johnny back to Steve's place. What's going on?"

Dally grabbed the front of Two-Bit's jacket desperately, "They cuffed him, Two-Bit. They took him away. Those goddamn sons of bitch cops. They said that Johnny killed Ponyboy, Two-Bit. They said they got witnesses."

Two-Bit's eyes grew to the size of saucers, "You're talking crazy, Dal. There's no way. There ain't no way-"

"I'm TELLING YOU," Dally roared, "I'm telling you! I saw it. They took him away. They're gonna stick him in jail, like he's a criminal. We gotta do something, Two-Bit. Johnny can't go to jail, man."

Two-Bit shook free of Dally's grasp, and turned around. But when he looked behind him, Cherry Valance has disappeared.

"Why today?" Two-Bit croaked, "Why couldn't they have just let it be?"

"We need to break Johnny out of jail."

"Are you crazy?" Two-Bit said, coming alive, "Look. We know Johnny didn't do this. We just gotta find whoever did do it, and tell the police. They ain't got any evidence on Johnny. They can't put him in jail."

"We need to find who said that they saw Johnny do it," Two-Bit continued as Dally paced back and forth, "First things first."

Two-Bit was shaking. He took a deep breath and said, "I think there's a cheerleader that we gotta go find."


End file.
